What You've Got Is Gold
by Mesita
Summary: When Isaac came home late at night with a face so long it practically dragged on the floor, it physically pained Scott. Something twisted around in his gut with such force that Scott almost didn't want to look at him. He had to fix it. He had to make it better. He couldn't stand it anymore.
1. Chapter 1

Living in the pack house wasn't going to be a permanent thing.

At least, that's what Scott told himself every day.

It wasn't even a funny story that landed him there, either.

It wasn't that Scott lacked intelligence… he just didn't test well. In fact, he had the worst timing for tests imaginable. Very nearly every time he'd had to take some major exam for one class or another, his mind would become preoccupied with a mess of more important things—like how to survive the night.

So, really, how was he supposed to concentrate during not only his SATs but the ACTs as well?

Like, honestly, who decided he had to take TWO college placement tests? At that point, he wanted nothing more than to just enroll himself into community college. It's not like he really knew what he wanted to do anyway, right? He could take his basic classes and get those out of the way before he figured his future out. He had half a mind to get up and walk out of the testing room before the time limit was up but that would look too suspicious. There were security guards. In a high school? During a test?

Honestly?

Either way, Scott spent more time blinking at the exam in front of him and wondering how much time had passed than doing actual work so when the test results came back just before Senior graduation, he wasn't at all surprised to see the low marks. He didn't take it too harshly. He at least scored higher than the monkey and that's what really mattered, right?

Everyone else threw their scores around like they were Olympic medals. Everyone basically meant Stiles.

Scott's score had landed him in community college, just like he'd thought all along. Couldn't he have saved himself the headache and just skipped the tests entirely?

No, the universe had had it out for him since sixteen. He should have known.

And so, his mother, who had far too much faith in her son, had been counting on Scott leaving the house after high school. She expected something more like a dorm or possibly off-campus housing. She hadn't expected Scott to beg for the car to start commuting.

What else could he do but move out, right?

And Derek had been so accommodating. It was absolutely horrible.

A pack house. For someone like Derek, who had been born a wolf, pack meant everything. Over the years he and Scott had had dozens of conversations about how important a pack meant to a werewolf. Two years and Scott still refused to join Derek.

And yet, they ended up working together on everything and Scott felt like Derek was pack completely by accident. Maybe that was why Derek asked Scott to live in the pack house with him. Derek probably knew, the smug asshole.

Either way, the pack house wasn't so horrible once Scott grew accustomed to it. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac all had rooms. Peter had a suite. It figured.

Stiles, Jackson, Lydia and Allison hadn't joined the house accommodations. They were all smart enough to not only get into colleges outside of Beacon Hills, but to win scholarships to help with the cost (the fact that Jackson received a lacrosse scholarship made Scott's blood boil—mostly because he'd been offered the same scholarship but didn't meet the grade requirements).

Losing Stiles had a great impact on Scott's social life. Over the last two years of high school, he'd been lucky enough to branch out and gain a few more friends (mostly of the lycanthrope variety) but Stiles had been a staple throughout his life. Stiles' attention to detail and affinity for research had helped Scott out so much in the past that he was actually fearful for what he'd do if another life or death situation arose.

Didn't people say that starting college was supposed to be like embarking on a new adventure?

Whoever decided sharing a house with a bunch of werewolves was going to be an exciting adventure was going to receive one swift kick in the face from Scott McCall.

Nothing good could come out of living in a house with the werewolf responsible for single-handedly ruining Scott's life (or did Peter make it better? Scott stopped trying to weight he pros and cons of the bite last year when the lacrosse team won State). Besides, Derek's smug attitude made the entire house stink. When Scott agreed to move in, it was like he missed the fine print where it stated that Derek was his alpha. Scott refused to believe it, so he just let Derek gloat. He'd learn. On top of it all, he had to deal with Erica and Boyd making schmoopy eyes at each other at all hours of the day. It was living in his own personal hell.

But then there was Isaac.

Throughout high school Isaac had been a great confidant and even greater friend. There were a few times when Scott actually preferred Isaac's company to Stiles'. Isaac understood what it was like to be a wolf, even if he had a completely different opinion on the bite.

The problem with Isaac was that he was TOO great… as if that were even possible. Because even after the entire world seemed to explode right in Isaac's face, he remained too fucking positive for his own good.

Every time something shitty happened in Scott's life, it seemed to hit Isaac ten times harder. Scott's father was a judgmental and emotionally abusive asshole whereas Isaac's father physically abused him and stuffed him in a freezer. Scott's father left one day, never to return… and Isaac's father was actually dead. If Scott had problems wolfing out during lacrosse practice then Isaac was already ripping through his gloves. It was like Isaac lived to one-up Scott.

On that theory, if Scott simply thought that Isaac was a pretty cool guy to be around, then Scott obviously had to be Isaac's best friend.

If he'd been a bit more observant, he would have guessed that Isaac was waiting for the day Stiles went off to a private college.

But he wasn't, so when Isaac was beside himself with joy to have Scott move in, then Scott was oblivious about it. Seeing Isaac excited about something was a good thing and Scott really didn't want to have to think too much about it. He just wanted to enjoy it.

And, really, when Isaac offered to take boxes upon boxes of Scott's things to his room to him, then who was Scott to refuse him? And when Isaac even offered to help unpack Scott sure as hell wasn't going to say no. He hated unpacking. And when Scott became distracted in the unpacking process by the intense need to re-thread his lacrosse stick and Isaac had to do most of the actual work, well, Scott was just grateful.

It wasn't until Isaac was putting comics away on a bookshelf that Scott snapped his eyes away from his lacrosse stick and acknowledged just what it was that Isaac was doing—and how much he'd gotten finished.

"Dude," Scott said, a bit bewildered. "Did you actually hang up my clothes for me?"

"They'd get wrinkled if I didn't," Isaac said offhandedly as he shuffled through a few comic titles. Then, as if he'd actually realized what he'd said, he tore his eyes away from a scantily clothed Scarlet Witch and shrugged it off. He looked flushed. Yeah, Scarlet Witch did that to Scott, too. "You have too many clothes anyway."

"You can borrow some if you want," Scott offered. He and Stiles would often wear each other's t-shirts when they'd had impromptu sleepovers… which reminded Scott, Stiles still had his Captain America shirt, the thief.

Isaac chuckled. He'd been doing that a lot, lately, or at least ever since Scott moved in. It was like Isaac followed him around with a continuous laugh track. It was great, but usually Scott was the one laughing at Stiles. It was strange for the tables to have turned. "I don't think your clothes will fit me."

"Oh, yeah? What's that, you're calling me fat?"

"I'm calling you short."

Scott stood up and stalked over to Isaac. Seeing as Isaac was sitting cross-legged on the floor and covered in piles of comic books, Scott must have looked intimidating from the ground. Isaac was even blushing harder, now—a sure sign of Scott's overpowering presence! Scott grinned down at him. "Who's short, now?"

Isaac's eyesight took a few moments to reach Scott's eyes. It was like his gaze was stuck somewhere around Scott's middle. He swallowed hard, probably biting back a not-so-clever comeback. Or, rather, Isaac usually had a good comeback. Scott was often impressed with his wit and the fact that he didn't get a good quip after should have raised a flag in Scott's mind, but it didn't. Isaac shoved the remainder of the comics from his lap and stood up flush with Scott. "Say that to my face."

Of course he had to stand up and ruin everything Scott had worked so hard to achieve. It was Scott's turn to crane his neck upward to look at Isaac properly, but he refused to back down. No, he was going to keep his gaze forward and not give in to Isaac's super tall demands.

Except that gaze meant looking directly at Isaac's crooked smirk and his soft chin. Scott had never been this close to Isaac without any lacrosse gear on. It was different.

It was strong.

And, well, a little intimidating, which was off-putting because Scott was supposed to be the one feeling intimidating.

"Fine, don't wear my clothes," Scott said eventually and pressed his hands to Isaac's chest, shoving him away. Isaac stumbled backwards in a way that suggested he had little to no balance, but Scott realized a quick second too late that it was because Isaac was doing everything in his power not to step on any of Scott's comics behind him.

In some desperate attempt at balance, Isaac flailed forward. With both their werewolf reflexes, the entire moment seemed to happen in slow motion. Isaac's hand fisted itself into Scott's shirt, pulling him forward and Scott immediately took a step back to compensate for the added weight. The result was not having an Isaac fall to the floor and accidentally bend the corners of all of Scott's precious comics—it was Isaac pulling his body to Scott's in some kind of awkward flailing hug.

Scott braced himself as Isaac's arms draped themselves around his shoulders to keep his balance. Scott hadn't been living in the pack house for more than a few days and he'd already been closer to Isaac than he had for the past two years. If this was how it was going to be all the time, Scott had no idea how he'd deal.

Because, really, he'd hugged Stiles all the time. Hugging didn't necessarily signify anything romantic. He hugged people out of relief or happiness or grief. Hugging was just… it was hugging. There was some kind of unwritten rule that any hug over three seconds was just awkward and—

-he felt Isaac's sharp inhale and his chest expanded further into Scott's. Was Isaac—did he just sniff him?

So not only was the hug far too long to be considered comfortable, but Isaac was smelling him.

It was a pack thing. It had to be. Derek mentioned something about scenting and blah blah blah. If Scott was going to be living with him, he'd have to deal with the other's being close to him.

This was probably one of those times.

Definitely NOT something he ever did with Stiles.

Rather than shove Isaac off and have to deal with everything all over again, Scott gave Isaac an awkward pat on the back. Because, really, Isaac smelled wonderful, too. If it were up to Scott, he would take a big whiff of the area just at his hairline, where the scent was strongest. He never wanted to sniff Stiles like that, though. Probably because Stiles smelled awful most days. "You okay?"

That seemed to bring Isaac back to the present. He snapped backward and held Scott at arm's length like he'd only just now realized what he'd been doing. "I'm okay. You okay?"

Scott raised an eyebrow. "I'm fine." Except he really wasn't. The room was too hot and stuffy and he really wanted to go make himself a sandwich just to have something to keep his hands occupied. They were currently at his sides and unsure if they needed to clench themselves into fists or just… something.

Isaac broke the tension by giving Scott a little shake and finally letting go of him. Scott wanted to retreat to the corner of his bed and completely re-thread his lacrosse stick again because just… what the hell happened?

"Want me to finish in here?" Isaac asked, more to the pile of comics than to Scott.

Scott cleared his throat because, for some strange reason, it felt like he had a mouth full of peanut butter and nothing wanted to get out. "No, I uh, I'm good. Thanks for helping, though, you're the best."

Isaac beamed but he still looked hurt. Scott was ruining things. If he lost Isaac because he couldn't handle a simple hug Scott would turn into a cynical pile of emotions and hatred. And that took a lot of effort. "Okay," Isaac said, but he didn't look it. "I'll be in my room if you need me."

And he left. Fast.

Scott cursed the ceiling. He'd known Isaac for how many years now and why was it suddenly so hard to talk to him?

Would it look too needy and clingy for him to chase after Isaac and apologize? Scott didn't know how to handle these things. He'd had one girlfriend in his life and she turned out to be the opposite of a perfect relationship and the one best friend he'd ever had… had up and left him for higher education and all around improving his life. His options for people to run to were quite few.

In the end, Scott decided he was going to finish unpacking his things and then go apologize to Isaac by offering to do something fun… like paintball. Nothing could go wrong with paintball.

Okay, so Isaac didn't like paintball, but he seemed overjoyed that Scott came to apologize. And when Scott said overjoyed he really meant vaguely happy. Suddenly, it became incredibly important for Scott to make Isaac smile again. It couldn't be that hard…

Except over the next few weeks it became increasingly harder to get Isaac to smile.

Scott missed the beginning of the semester when the homework was light and he was still coming down from his I'm-finally-out-on-my-own high. He missed Isaac laughing at everything he said. By mid-terms, if anything, Isaac was avoiding him.

Of course, it made studying by himself a bit easier, but Scott hated it. He'd tried studying with Erica once but she wasn't exactly the best study partner—especially since she didn't take any of the same classes as Scott. Boyd helped whenever he could, but he unfairly joined the wrestling team and they were apparently deep in the middle of the season and he was never around.

Derek had offered to help once, and Scott shut him down. Fast.

It wasn't just studying, though, and it wasn't just that Scott needed to be social. Over the weeks, Isaac seemed to really hit a rough patch and Scott had no idea how to fix it mostly because Isaac wasn't talking to him about it.

Whenever they spoke, it was about simple things… comics, the weather, the coming full moon… anything safe. Scott didn't know how to bring up the fact that Isaac was losing weight… that his eyes looked sunken in more than usual and that he really, really needed to exercise his smiling muscles because Scott practically forgot what Isaac looked like when he was smiling.

Scott knew he had an addictive personality. He'd inherited it from his alcoholic father. It was just his own luck that he'd been plagued with lycanthropy and therefore his body metabolized the alcohol too fast to get him drunk. His addictions took the form of different things over time. It had been Iron Man when he was in his early teens, and when he was sixteen, it had obviously been Allison. After Allison, lacrosse took over as his number one passion. The supernatural never counted, to him, as an addiction because it was now just a normal thing that happened to him every day, like having brown eyes.

But now, his addiction was Isaac's happiness. He'd become so invested in making Isaac happy that it was like having a social life all over again. Isaac was just making it very, very hard.

It wasn't just some goal, either. When Isaac came home late from classes at night with a face so long it practically dragged on the floor, it physically pained Scott. Something twisted around in his gut with such force that Scott almost didn't want to look at him.

He had to fix it. He had to make it better. He couldn't stand it anymore.

* * *

It was raining the night Scott finally decided to do something more than just make feeble attempts at starting a conversation.

He had a large gap between his last two classes and he usually spent the time lounging around campus or going home for free food (which wasn't free at all, but it was certainly less expensive than the school cafeteria) but with the rain coming down in cold early winter sheets, Scott really didn't want to deal with the traffic and so he'd found himself sitting at an empty table in the cafeteria absentmindedly watching a group of girls try to impress anyone who walked by their table.

Right when he thought he'd seen enough hair flips to last him a lifetime, a mop of curly dirty blonde hair appeared just above the sea of newcomers. It was time.

Weaving in and out of the students came as easily as breathing. Scott actually enjoyed dodging the bulging backpacks and groups of friends. He thought that spinning around students and dodging waving hands should be an Olympic sport but only because he really wanted a gold medal and possibly the prize money that came along with it, taxes be damned.

When he caught up with Isaac, he placed a friendly had on his shoulder, glad that there were so many people around them that he didn't have to drown in the depression bubble that surrounded the taller werewolf.

Scott did catch a whiff of it, though, and frowned. When Isaac didn't even turn around, Scott frowned further.

"Hey," he tried. If Isaac wasn't going to respond to touch, then he was going to respond to Scott's voice, right? "You in a hurry?"

"I have somewhere I need to be," Isaac said. Well, it was a start. At least he said something.

"What, class? I thought you were done for the day." Scott didn't memorize Isaac's schedule. Really.

Isaac finally turned his head toward Scott, but he kept up his pace. "I have to go home and prepare for a job interview, alright?"

Scott stopped in his tracks, causing a petite girl with thick black glasses to bump into him from behind. He whispered a hasty apology to her and jogged to catch up with Isaac again. "A job interview? I didn't know you were looking."

That was definitely not the right thing to say, because Isaac's feet started walking faster. Scott cursed the fact that Isaac had long legs. Scott could easily keep up, but his legs had to move at a faster pace and he looked more like he was jogging than walking. The last thing he needed was for some nosy professor to yell at him about running in the halls. Did they do that at college? Community College felt enough like High School already, minus the school spirit. For all Scott knew, he couldn't chew gum in class, either.

"Isaac, come on," Scott panted, trying not to really show that he was getting winded. Was it possible for a werewolf to be out of shape? Maybe it was nerves. He was nervous about getting Isaac to talk to him and it made breathing difficult. That sounded about right. Scott went with that explanation. "Maybe I could help? I can see if Deaton knows anyone—"

"I don't need your handouts, okay?" Isaac spat, sounding angrier than Scott had heard in years. He'd almost forgotten Isaac could even get that mad. The intended effect worked, however, because Scott backed off.

"I just thought I could help," Scott frowned. He hated watching Isaac's retreating form attempt to disappear into the crowd in front of them. And then he learned it was a bad idea to stop walking in the middle of a crowded hallway because people started to shove at him so that they could reach their classes on time. In no time, Isaac was gone.

Frustrated, Scott pulled out his cell phone and hastily sent Isaac a message that he would probably regret later but at the moment he was angry and he just let his anger do all the talking.

_Jerk_.

Scott figured that after a couple of years, he'd have gotten used to the whole werewolf thing. After all, it wasn't just something that happened for a few months or so. No, this was his life, now. And on top of it, he lived with werewolves so it wasn't even like he could just pretend it didn't exist. Nevertheless, there were certain aspects to lycanthropy that complete eluded him.

Super speed happened to be one of them.

So when Isaac was suddenly standing in front of Scott again, his eyes blazing, it actually surprised him. Isaac looked so mad Scott wouldn't doubt it if he had smoke coming out his ears. In fact, Scott made sure to double check just in case. It also helped him avert his gaze from the steely glare of Isaac's clearly glowing eyes.

"Jerk?" Isaac's lips curled away from his teeth like even they were afraid of his tone of voice. Scott swallowed hard.

"Did… did I send that to you?" Scott's voice squeaked a little bit. He'd finished puberty years ago. Why did that even have to happen? "I meant to send that to Stiles."

Isaac didn't believe him. Scott could tell, mostly because Isaac exhaled loudly through his nose and said, "Don't lie to me." It was a dead giveaway anyway.

"Look, I'm just trying to talk to you," Scott took a step back to get a little bit of air because really, Isaac was crowding him. Did he have to be so close all the time? Well, actually, Scott didn't mind him being close. It was the being close thing that Scott actually missed. He just didn't like Isaac being close like _this_.

"Well, you've got my attention," Isaac said, still obviously angry, but less on the side of wanting to bite Scott's face off. He looked more impatient than anything.

This was exactly what Scott wanted, right? He wanted to have a good, decent conversation with Isaac and now he was going to get it. Except, he hadn't really prepared any cue cards and while that wasn't exactly a normal thing to do, Scott suddenly found himself at a loss for words and really wishing he had something. Anything. A teleprompter, even.

Instead, he sighed and started from the top of things. "Why are you so angry, anyway? I thought we were friends." Really, they'd already had that conversation. It was like Scott had to constantly remind Isaac of the friendship they held just in case Isaac forgot—which he seemed to. Frequently.

"We _are_ friends," Isaac said, his anger physically ebbing away. His eyes softened and he'd stopped raising his voice. It probably helped that the crowded hallways were slowly thinning out and they no longer needed to yell to be heard. Then again, when Scott concentrated, he didn't really have too much trouble hearing just one person in the cacophony of the hallway.

Scott raised his eyebrows at Isaac in hopes that they would do all the talking for him. He really hoped they said, _Then why are you being a jerk and ignoring me in favor of being depressed?_

But instead of answering his eyebrow's obvious question, Isaac said, "Are you ok?"

Scott blinked. "What?"

"Your eyebrows won't stop moving."

Scott threw his hands in the air. He was five hundred percent finished with everything. He had to get out of the hallway and somewhere where they didn't have to dodge people in the middle of the hallway. He managed to get a hold of Isaac's coat and pull him off to the side next to a bulletin board advertising study abroad options in Spain.

"Look, I miss you, okay?" Scott started up again, leaning against picture of a colorful senorita.

Isaac was distinctly staring at Scott despite the multitude of visual Spanish stimuli. "Okay?"

Oh wow, Scott was going to have to spell everything out. Isaac probably just wanted to hear it all said out loud. Double jerk. "I hate seeing you so down all the time. Just… tell me what to do to make things okay again. I don't even know if you've noticed, but it's kind of been weighing on me."

"I haven't noticed," Isaac deadpanned.

"Well, gee, thanks," Scott retorted. He shoved at Isaac a little bit, forcing himself to smile. "I didn't do anything to piss you off, did I?"

Isaac was silent for a moment, but when he opened his mouth to speak, Scott could tell he was fully prepared to spill everything. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at… at everything."

Okay. Progress. "Explain."

"I'm not sure I picked the right major for one. My classes are more demanding than I realized and my professors are unforgiving. One of them decided that nearly every month required a large paper due around the full moon. Then, you know, I need to pull my weight at home with a job. So… hence the job interview."

"Oh," Scott nodded slowly. "So… stress?"

"I hate summing it up in one word, but yes."

Scott couldn't help himself. He started beaming, his teeth poking through his lips. He clapped Isaac on his shoulders and shook him a little bit. "Don't stress, man! That's what friends are for, right? You can come to me about anything! I'll do what I can to help!"

Isaac still looked bewildered. "Like I said, I don't do handouts."

"Ugh, it's not a handout. I'm volunteering my service. Let me service you."

Both boys were silent for a full ten seconds. It was Isaac who laughed first. It was the type of laugh that forced you to throw your head back and just let go.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Scott said. He knew Isaac knew better but it still felt mandatory to point it out anyway.

"Regardless of any servicing," Isaac said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "I still need to go to this job interview."

"You'll nail it," Scott grinned. That one was on purpose.

"How do you know?" Isaac inquired. Scott watched his own grin become mirrored on Isaac's face and he swelled with pride. There was the laughter and smiles he'd been missing since the semester started. They looked really good on him. In fact, that sounded like something he should let Isaac know.

"Smiling looks good on you," Scott said matter-of-factly. "And if you're in a good mood, maybe they'll decide you'll be awesome. So just… smile, and charm them. Let them see the Isaac I know. They'll hire you."

Isaac's eyes looked a little damp, but maybe it was the bright yellow from the bulletin board, or possibly the neon piñata. "Thank you, Scott. Really."

Scott waved it off. "What are best friends for?"

* * *

That night, Scott was hard at work writing a paper for English Comp by watching fail videos on YouTube. At least he had a tab opened with a Word Document open on his computer, so he at least started on the paper. Nevermind that the document contained nothing other than his name and the date.

It took him a few seconds to realize that Isaac was even standing in the doorway. He'd been engrossed in someone completely forgetting the proper etiquette for a trampoline that he hadn't even noticed the discreet cough.

Scott did a double-take when he finally did take note of Isaac's presence, mostly because the curly haired teen was silently screaming with excitement.

"Dude," Scott swiveled around in his desk chair and held thumb out. He wiggled his hand between a thumbs up and a thumbs down sign.

Isaac gave him a double thumbs up.

"Sweet!" Scott exclaimed, launching himself from the desk chair straight at Isaac. He was not only thrilled that Isaac nailed his interview just like Scott said he would but also because apparently their non-verbal communication was getting better and that was worth celebrating.

He wasn't even thinking about it when he went to hug Isaac. The way Isaac's hands wrapped themselves around Scott's waist also indicated that he wasn't really thinking about it, either. Scott just wanted to hug. When he realized what he'd done, though, he pulled back.

"Woah, sorry. Congrats, man," he sputtered. To make things even more awkward, he even held his hand out for Isaac to shake.

Isaac laughed and shook his head. "I don't mind. I like your hugs."

"Oh thank God," Scott let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. The last thing he needed was a repeat of the last few months. He'd just gotten back on talking terms. He didn't want to ruin it with a hug. "I like hugging you. It's nice. You're warm."

Isaac scrunched his face up which was definitely not the reaction Scott was going for. "Do you even know what you say half the time?"

"Not really, but I mean what I say." It made sense in Scott's head. Honestly. "Look, I'm sorry you've been having such a hard time adjusting, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when I really should have been. I guess I just had the wrong idea. But I'm here now, right?"

Isaac just smiled at him. "Right." In fact, the way he smiled gave Scott a familiar twist in his gut. It wasn't that he wanted Isaac to smile like that all the time—it was that he really wanted Isaac to smile at _him_ like that. Like this was just a private thing Isaac's face did solely for the pleasure of Scott McCall.

Scott licked his lips and stepped to the side, one hand gesturing for Isaac to come into his room in an open invitation. "You wanna hang out? I'm writing a paper."

Isaac's eyes flicked to the computer. "You're on YouTube."

"Research," Scott countered quickly. He made a mad dash for his desk and shut his laptop quickly and stood in front of it. "We could watch a movie?"

"Or I could help you with your paper." Isaac took one step into the room, but there was so much command in that step that Scott wished he could morph backward into his desk just to back up a little bit more. He couldn't let anyone see his scared face, though, so he put on a brave look and even turned up his nose a little bit.

"Sounds boring."

"Or you could fail."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Stop making sense."

In the end, he gave in. Isaac worked with him for over an hour on how to start his essay with the proper format. He even sat through all of Scott's mini tantrums and denied Scott the right to go into the kitchen for a fifteen, thirty, thirty five, forty, and fifty minute break. Isaac was, in short, the best and the worst friend all wrapped into one curly headed package.

At ten Scott closed the laptop with a sense of finality that indicated Isaac should stop talking about transitional phrases.

"This isn't even due until Monday," he pointed out. "But thanks anyway, man. I owe you one."

"Nah," Isaac shoved at Scott a little with his shoulder. "We're even, now."

Scott shot Isaac a look. "I didn't even do anything." He really didn't. He'd kind of pissed Isaac off in the hallway until he finally shook a little bit of happiness into him. Scott didn't count that as really doing anything productive other than the fact that it brought Isaac back to him. So, well, maybe it was _something_.

"You made me feel important again," Isaac said softly. Scott watched him hard. They playful banter and joking was over. Isaac was being deadly serious and it had a sobering effect on him. "Like I mattered enough to keep trying."

Scott couldn't stop his jaw from dropping. "You were thinking of… of giving up?" The very idea was preposterous to him.

Isaac kept looking from Scott to his lap as if he couldn't make up his mind on where to look. If Isaac were Allison, Scott would have grabbed his chin and tilted his face upward to force their eyes to meet. He wanted to be sure that Isaac heard all of his words but he also didn't know if that was the right move or not. Did someone do that to guys that were just friends?

"Maybe," Isaac answered. "Things were pretty bad there for a while."

Scott decided, fuck it all to hell, and reached forward. Instead of taking a hold of Isaac's chin, though, he managed to grab his face with both hands and sort of jerked it upward in a way that must not have been comfortable, but at least his point was made. "You should have come to me. Why didn't you come to me?"

"I didn't think you cared."

"You didn't- what?!" Scott let go of Isaac's face in favor of standing up. He knew it probably wasn't a good idea to point out all the reasons why Isaac was so obviously wrong, but he couldn't help himself. "You mean everything to me and suddenly you decide you're just going to shut me out of your life? Did I ever SAY I didn't care?"

Isaac gave Scott a look that was borderline, _I let myself be vulnerable to you and this is how you react? I'm thinking about running into my room and punching a hole in my wall._ Obviously, Scott was better at reading facial expressions than Isaac was at reading eyebrows.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry. Bottom line is, I care. I'm a bit hurt that you'd think otherwise because I think you're awesome even if your idea of a good time is making me write grammatically correct sentences."

That must have been the right bucket of water to douse the fire because Isaac didn't run away. He still looked sad, though, and Scott couldn't figure out for the life of him WHY.

"So, to be clear on this," Isaac said eventually. "We're friends?"

"YES!" Scott threw his hands in the air in exasperation. Reminder number three hundred and twelve. "How many times do I have to say it before it finally sticks?"

Isaac didn't answer right away. He took a moment to let the question mull in his head for a while. Scott almost grew impatient but the sharp intake of breath Isaac made indicated that he was about to speak so Scott held off on another exasperating lecture. Isaac was still sitting so he had to look up at Scott, but he did so in a way that meant he didn't need to move his head, only peer at him through his lashes. He looked oddly seductive. Seductive in a way that was possibly effective.

"Just… friends?"

Scott was about to immediately answer with YES but he stopped. Instead, he made a noise that closely resembled. "Ye—oh."

Oh.

Well, that. Well, things. Well, everything. It made sense. Did Isaac like him like that? Had he always liked him like that? Or maybe he didn't like him like that and he wanted to be sure that Scott didn't feel the same way so that things wouldn't be awkward? Except for the whole part where now things were awkward anyway and Scott had no idea how to really deal with any of it.

It explained why Isaac seemed so upset when Scott ever did anything that so obviously denied any advances. Stiles pulled the same crap with him all the time and never got upset about it, but Stiles wasn't in love with him, either.

There he was on that road that Isaac was in love with him. He hadn't actually said anything… but Scott couldn't deny the way those blue eyes were looking at him.

He probably let his mouth bob open and shut for too long because all at once Isaac stopped looking at him and stood up. He brushed the wrinkles from his clothes as if he hadn't just asked a completely revealing question. "Sorry for asking. Of course we're friends. Thanks for the heads up about the interview. I start work next week."

Scott's mind was still on another track entirely but he heard his mouth say, "What kind of job did you get?"

"I strip for the paper."

Scott did a double take. "What?"

"I de-li-ver the pa-per," Isaac enunciated slowly. "You know, like in Paperboy? Only I don't get points if I knock old people off their porch swing."

"Oh," Of course that's what he said. Scott really needed some time alone to think about things. A lot of things. Possibly even Isaac doing what he thought he heard in the first place.

"Get some sleep," Isaac said. He sounded so normal. Maybe it was because Scott was freaking out so much that he though Isaac sounded nonchalant. Scott couldn't really tell. There was a ringing in his ears.

"Sleep. Yeah. Sleep. Okay. Goodnight, Isaac."

"Goodnight, Scott."

Scott didn't sleep for a long time. He even turned his computer off and shut his door and turned off the lights but nothing worked. He lay in his bed for a half an hour just staring at the ceiling before he figured he was too hot and stripped down to his boxers. Even then the room was too hot. He thought about opening a window and jumping outside to cool off. Maybe even a good shift into his wolfy side would be relaxing for him. He'd never done that before—shifted to relieve tension.

He couldn't close his eyes and picture anyone else. All he could see was the curls of Isaac's hair, the blue of his eyes, the strength of his jaw. It was like Isaac flipped some obsessive switch in him. At first Scott was just invested in his happiness and now suddenly he was just invested in everything Isaac.

How the hell did that Lahey bastard even plant this seed in Scott's mind? He'd gone through his entire life happily interested in breasts and here Isaac didn't even have any and Scott _didn't even mind._

Seriously. There was something wrong with him, and it was all Isaac's fault.

The worst of it was that he couldn't even avoid Isaac about it. He promised he'd be there for the guy after all. There was no getting around it. He'd just have to sort this out the only way he knew how: by shoving his hand into his boxers to relieve a steadily growing problem.

It didn't take long. After all, Scott's room still smelled heavily of Isaac. The problem was that he tried to look over at something—anything that would remind him of the female anatomy. He even tried to focus on a Scarlet Witch comic he had lying on the floor but that only reminded him of Isaac helping him unpack and how Isaac was sitting at just the perfect height to—

-and that was it.

As Scott cleaned himself up with the almost mandatory tissues next to his bed, he had no idea if he was supposed to feel liberated or ashamed.

He'd have to find out in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Scott woke up to find himself in his own personal hell.

Well, okay, so it wasn't really HELL, hell, but it was pretty damn close. He was in a constant state of jumbled up words and sweaty palms and mini anxiety attacks… and it was all Isaac's fault.

There was a laundry list of reasons why he couldn't be bothered with just walking up to Isaac and asking everything outright.

First of all, he still wasn't one hundred percent positive that Isaac liked him like that. For all he knew, Isaac was just sensitive. And touchy. Or something. After all, the guy could go from being kind and comforting to a snarling mess in zero point two seconds.

Secondly, Isaac was pack. Sort of. It was just /weird/. Sure, dating within the pack was not unheard of. Jackson and Lydia did it. Even Boyd and Erica did. It was a completely normal and acceptable thing to do… except both of those relationships were with one guy and one girl.

And that, there, was the underlying problem and Scott knew it.

He had no problems with gay people. None at all. He'd figured Stiles had at least been bisexual for years and it didn't bother him one bit. He'd danced with Danny at a school dance their Sophomore year. It made no difference to him whether or not a guy was gay.

It just… it made a difference if it was him. Because he _wasn't_.

Or, rather, the thought never actually occurred to him. It wasn't like he walked around town staring at the rear ends of the guys on the lacrosse team. He'd spent most of his high school career pining after Allison, anyway. She was so awesome at just existing that he'd really set the bar high for anyone he dated afterward so he actually stopped actively looking when it became clear that Allison wasn't going to take him back.

For the longest time, if he'd been asked (which he hadn't) he would have thought himself to be just… just Allison-sexual because she was the only person he'd really gotten a stiffy for—celebrities and fictional characters not-withstanding because he had a weakness for everyone in the Marvel Universe.

So, when he walked out of his room the next morning only to run into Isaac on the way to the bathroom, he wasn't at all surprised when he flipped his shit. Isaac gave him a sort of bemused stare with his eyebrows slightly raised so that Scott had to force himself to retreat back into his bedroom and close the door.

He listened carefully for Isaac to finish his routine before he opened the door cautiously. The hallway was deserted. Perfect. Scott tiptoed to the bathroom quickly and shut the door behind him as quietly as possible.

There was absolutely no reason he had to act this suspicious. He just couldn't handle Isaac at the moment. Even the split second he'd seen him in the hallway had been too much. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest he was pretty sure it would have woken up the entire household granted they weren't already awake. Alarm clocks be damned.

Breakfast wasn't any easier. When he made his way to the kitchen, he braced himself for the inevitable change to the morning routine.

On any other morning, Scott would sleepily trudge into the kitchen and grab himself a pop tart. He usually ate his straight from the package because the toaster was, most mornings, taken up by Erica who confiscated it for waffles or toaster pastries for herself and Boyd. Isaac would sit in his usual spot and stare at the back of a cereal box as if the letters rearranged themselves overnight.

But this morning had to be different. They were out of pop tarts for one. For another, when Isaac noticed Scott looking about the kitchen pantry in bewilderment, he spoke up.

"Morning. You want some cereal?"

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Cereal? Like from his bowl? Or did he get his own bowl? Why was this now suddenly so hard to comprehend? And Isaac's voice was still crackly from disuse and it sounded so low and seductive and just _how_ was it possible to become aroused by someone offering breakfast cereal?

Scott knew he was giving Isaac a sort of deer-in-headlights look because Isaac sighed and pushed the cereal box over. "Have some," he brought up once more.

Somewhere, deep within himself, Scott found his voice. It sounded stupid and high-pitched again and he had to clear his throat because apparently he was going through a second puberty. "Yeah, sure."

That wasn't so hard, right? Two words.

Erica and Boyd were both peering at him from over the tops of their plates as if Scott couldn't see him. He could feel their eyes on him as he moved to grab a bowl from the cupboard and pour himself some cereal. He took one big bite and crunched loudly, forcing himself to smile and look completely normal.

Except Isaac was looking at him like he was the furthest thing from normal. Scott widened his eyes as if to say, '_What_?'

Isaac pointed to the milk jug. Erica began to snicker. Scott scowled and poured himself some milk as he swallowed the dry bits of cereal.

"Just wanted to see if it tasted okay," Scott muttered, knowing what it sounded like. Erica's giggling grew louder.

Wow, eating was unattractive. It was even harder to eat cereal and look good doing it. The spoon was too big so he had to open his mouth at an unnaturally large angle just to fit it in. Even then, milk always managed to escape and dribble out of the corners of his mouth. Not to mention, once the food finally reached its oral destination, he had to bite down and crunch loudly. Everyone in the house had werewolf hearing. Listening to someone eat their cereal like they were chomping on pop rocks was the furthest thing from sexy.

So Scott ended up slowing down on his eating, trying not to make an idiot of himself and failing miserably.

Isaac stared at his cereal box. Erica continued to giggle. Boyd silently judged him.

If every day was going to be like this morning, Scott wanted to quit school and become a basement dweller at his mom's house.

* * *

Everyone had to be at school at different times on different days. College had a wonderful way of making classes at obscure moments of the day so that no one could ever meet up to do anything. It made projects more difficult than they should have been. It also gave Dr. Deaton a headache when it came to Scott's hours for work.

Unfortunately, this scheduling difficulty resulted in Scott having to work most evenings and weekends. It wasn't any different from High School, but now he had to deal with a few more responsibilities.

Fortunately, this meant that his schedule and Isaac's schedule conflicted often and now that Isaac had a new job, Scott didn't have to worry about bumping into him. The thought was both liberating and sobering.

What Scott really didn't want to admit to himself was that he really wanted to run into Isaac more. Throughout the entire day, he tried to find ways to both simultaneously avoid Isaac and still manage to see him. It felt like stalking, but he'd convinced himself it was the furthest thing from stalking. He just wanted to know where Isaac was at all times. He wanted to get a feel for Isaac's normal habits so that he could avoid them. … or run into him. It was all so confusing.

Isaac did everything gracefully. It was so annoying. Even though his arms and legs were so long, the bite had granted him this uncanny ability to be perfect at everything. He didn't fit in the large desks the school provided, so he slouched. Instead of looking oversized, it managed to make him look cool and collected. It was both sickening and awesome. Scott hated it and admired it.

Even when Isaac walked he was fluid, with his backpack precariously hanging off his left shoulder. He looked so cool even when standing in line for cafeteria food that Scott had a hard time determining if he was real or not. Why hadn't he noticed this before? If Isaac was this amazing, why wasn't he been one of the most popular guys in school back in High School?

After all, Scott barely remembered the Isaac before the bite. He was the shy kid that stayed in the back of class and never spoke up. No one took note of him. And then, bam, he became a werewolf and suddenly Scott couldn't imagine a life without Isaac in it. He figured he had Derek to thank for introducing him to such an enigmatic person, but Scott didn't like thanking Derek for anything, so he let the thought slide.

He knew, eventually, that he would have to step out of the shadows and say something to Isaac. After all, he'd tried so valiantly to rub it in Isaac's face that they were friends and here he was avoiding him. Sort of. He just really didn't know what to say and he really wanted to just watch Isaac without Isaac ever really knowing. It was win-win, right? He'd say something when he thought of it.

The perfect opportunity came before Scott even wanted it to. He'd finished his classes for the day and was making his way out to the parking lot. He had a little bit of time before he had to appear at the veterinary clinic and he was planning on stopping by a drive-thru for some dinner. He knew he'd even up stinking like French fries for the rest of the night but it was completely worth it.

He'd barely made it off the curb when he heard, "Scott! Wait up!"

There was no escaping. He couldn't pretend he didn't hear Isaac's call because there really weren't that many students around and with his werewolf hearing, it was damn near impossible to lie. He plastered the best smile he could muster on his face and turned slowly to face his incredibly good-looking doom.

"Hey, Isaac."

Isaac wasn't jogging toward him or even walking at a brisk pace. He was carrying some kind of thick foam board with a strange creation on top of it. Scott couldn't see what it was due to the fact that Isaac had covered it with plastic, but it didn't look heavy. Scott figured it was something he'd made in class. It didn't take too many context clues to figure that out.

"Hey," Isaac called again, but this time at a normal tone because he was within reach. "You think you can give me a lift home? I usually run but with this mess, I just don't have time."

Scott eyed the contraption once more and figured it would fit in his backseat. He'd just have to move the trash around. "Yeah, sure."

Maybe he could get something during his break. Fast food would just have to wait.

"Thanks," Isaac shot Scott a small smile and Scott's toes grew hot. His toes. Did that happen to normal people? He ended up looking at his shoes as if they'd personally wronged him—or at least to check that they weren't on fire.

Scott shoved his hands in his pockets and finally stepped off the curb, starting the trek across the parkin lot to his car. "No problem," he said. And then, because he really couldn't be bothered with keeping such a large bubble of silence around them, he said the first thing that came to his mind that still sounded relatively normal. "When do you start your new job?"

"Monday," Isaac answered. "I have to get up early in the morning to deliver the papers. The hours are a bit odd, but at least it's a job, right?"

"Yeah," Scott agreed. "How early?"

"Four in the morning."

Scott stole another glance at Isaac, just to be sure. "Four?"

Isaac nodded.

"Wow, man, sucks to be you."

"I know." Something in Isaac's voice sounded wounded. Scott immediately went on the defensive.

"Woah, man I didn't mean it like that!" he started. "I just, it's an expression."

Isaac just laughed and it made Scott feel stupid. Here he was, thinking he'd stepped on something he couldn't repair and it turned out that maybe Isaac was just dicking him around? Dick.

"In either case," Scott said, still secretly mad but not sure if he should show it or not. "Doesn't that mean you have to go to bed at like, dinner time?"

"Something like that," Isaac shrugged. "Or I just nap a lot. Whatever, right?"

"Yeah," Scott's voice trailed off. He fished his keys from his pocket now that they were getting closer to his car. "Whatever."

In the end, Scott had to move more than just a few things from his backseat to his trunk in order to get the thing-a-ma-jig that Isaac was bringing home to sit comfortably in the backseat. Isaac spent so much time adjusting the foam board to make sure that even if Scott drove like he did in Grand Theft Auto, the project would still be safe. Scott even suggested use of the seatbelt but only received an eyeroll in response.

When they both sat down in the front of the car, Scott hesitated before revving up the engine. It was weird, having someone other than Stiles in his car with him. Sure, this wasn't Isaac's first time riding in Scott's car, but it was the first time riding alone… at least, first time in a very, very long time. And, most certainly the first time he'd ridden in the car since Scott's brain decided it found Isaac attractive.

It was like riding in a car with Allison all over again. Suddenly it was so much harder to concentrate. He nearly crashed twice. Isaac probably thought Scott was the absolute worst driver in the world. Scott, at this point, had to agree, mostly because he'd been so caught up in Isaac's overwhelming scent that he'd had to slam the brakes several times. Each time, Isaac made a cautious glance to the back to make sure his project was still in-tact.

It was all too much. Scott needed to change the subject. "What is that thing, anyway?"

Isaac looked back at Scott after he'd finished double-checking on his baby in the backseat. "It's a project for my architecture class."

"You're in an architecture class?" Scott said incredulously. Seriously? Scott knew Isaac's schedule and he didn't remember anything architecture related being on the agenda.

"Constructing Physical Structure?" Isaac supplied. Scott scrunched his nose. That sounded a little redundant to him. He wondered what nutjob named the classes.

"I thought that was something art related. Or PE." Or Physical Education and Art combined into one. Whatever that was. Ballet. He tried not to snicker to himself as he imagined Isaac on his toes.

"Nope, architectural design," Isaac said proudly.

And then Scott's mind moved from Isaac just doing ballet to Isaac actually wearing the skin-tight outfits required of male ballet dancers and Scott suddenly became aware that he had no idea what Isaac's penis looked like and that left a large gap in what Isaac should probably look like in the David Bowie region.

"Scott?"

Uh-oh. Isaac was saying his name. Scott would have closed his eyes and imagined the world away but he was driving and he couldn't do that unless he wanted to die. And he did. But only metaphorically. He hoped he didn't say anything he was thinking out loud. "What?"

"You're gripping the steering wheel so tight, I think you're going to snap it," Isaac pointed out.

Scott glanced down at his white knuckles and immediately released the steering wheel. He gave a bit of nervous laughter as he repositioned his hands. "Just, you know, ten o'clock and two o'clock, right?"

"Right…"

"Hey, yeah, listen. So. I'm going to drop you off at home because I have to go straight to work afterward, is that okay?" Scott said suddenly. He'd used up all the nerves he had for one day, and he'd only been sitting next to Isaac for a couple of minutes.

"You have to work? I didn't know that!" Isaac said, his tone filled with apologies. "You should have said! I would have walked!"

"No, it's cool," Scott said, finally turning into the driveway of the pack house. "I'd be a crap friend I just let you walk home like that. What if it rained?" There wasn't a cloud in the sky, but it was a good enough excuse for him.

Isaac smiled. Scott liked to think it was a shy smile, but Isaac wasn't shy—at least not around Scott. He might have been, once, but Isaac's personality had changed drastically over the years. "Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah," Scott said. He was so humble. Humble and awesome. As he placed the car in park, he glanced at the architecture project that somehow managed to arrive unscathed. "You need help unloading?"

"Nah, I'll grab it. You stay seated so you can get to work on time."

Scott watched helplessly as Isaac took out the project and made his way to the front door. Scott, for the first time in the history of his existence, actually stole a glance at Isaac's ass as he moved.

Oh god, wow, it did things to him. This was unhealthy. It wasn't right. They were friends. He wasn't friends with Allison before they jumped into a relationship. That was different. He'd known Isaac for such a long time. It felt wrong on some level.

Isaac turned around suddenly and balanced his project on his outstretched palm as he waved off Scott with his free hand. "GO!" he mouthed, effectively shooing Scott out of the driveway.

That seemed to snap Scott out of his reverie and he had to remember to put the car into reverse before backing out of the driveway. He dreaded the day he'd start running into walls around Isaac. This was absolutely terrible and he needed to do something about it.

At least at work he could act normal. At work there wasn't an Isaac around to make him mess up. He could be normal Scott McCall for just a few hours. It was almost like a miniature vacation.

* * *

The problem with working was that he came home a bit late and when he did, most of the house was asleep. He couldn't properly address his Isaac problem when the house was napping. He had to sneak around, instead, and try to use the flashlight application on his phone to see where he was going.

Despite the convenient app, he still managed to trip over something and crash into the corner of a table and curse loudly. One didn't have to be a werewolf to hear him at that point. He wouldn't have been surprised if half the town heard him.

"Oh, good. Scott's home," a female voice called from somewhere in the house. There was only one female around so it didn't take much for Scott to figure out who it was.

"Shut up, Erica."

"You shut up. I'm trying to study."

"It's Friday," Scott deadpanned. "Who studies on Fridays?"

"Students who actually pass classes?"

Another voice overpowered the two of them quickly. It didn't say anything. It just growled.

Both Scott and Erica cowed. He didn't want to admit that he felt compelled to be quiet as Derek undoubtedly implied with his alpha roar. He kept his head down as he made the trek to his room. He couldn't help but steal a glance at Isaac's closed door as he walked by. A soft glow illuminated the bottom crack which indicated that the curly headed wolf wasn't asleep, yet. Scott paused and wondered if he should go in. He'd been avoiding Isaac all day long and when he couldn't avoid him anymore, he had mini panic attacks. He knew that if he wanted any future conversations with the young man, then he'd have to learn how to just deal with anxiety and talk to him.

With a deep breath, Scott knocked on the door with the back of his knuckles as lightly as possible.

No answer.

Maybe he was asleep? Maybe he was in the shower and he just had his door closed. Scott couldn't hear any water running. When he pressed his ear to the door, he didn't hear anything. Not even breathing. Or a heartbeat.

The frightening thought that Isaac was dead swept quickly across Scott's mind. Then again, if he were, then wouldn't the entire household be in a frenzy? Somehow the thought that maybe they hadn't found out yet also swam through Scott's brain and he built up the courage to open Isaac's door.

The room was empty. The window was closed. Isaac just wasn't in his room.

Okay?

Scott closed the door quietly and considered his options. Should he alert Derek? Should he look for Isaac? He wasn't entirely sure. He decided that maybe it was best for him to set his things in his room first and get a proper flashlight because the one on his phone was awful.

He opened the door to his room without even thinking and proceeding to let out a tiny shriek. Well, to him it was tiny. To the rest of the house it was loud enough to warrant another warning growl from the alpha. Scott shrank in on himself.

"Isaac, what the hell?!"

"Shh," Isaac said quickly, covering Scott's mouth with his hand in one smooth motion and keeping him pinned to the backside of his door. Scott glared at him and resisted the urge to attempt to bite his fingers. "You going to be quiet if I let go?" Isaac questioned.

Scott nodded and felt Isaac's grip lessen and finally leave completely. Scott rubbed a hand over his lips. He could have kissed the palm of Isaac's hand. He should have. He really wished he could turn back time and replay that scene all over again but instead of Isaac's hand on his face it was his mouth.

"You tired?" Isaac asked, his voice still hushed.

Scott shook his head.

"Good, because we're getting out of here."

Scott scrunched up his face. "Why?"

"Because I barely get to see you enough as it is, and when I Start my new job next week I'll never get to see you. Let's just go out and hang once more before we slowly become adults."

Scott couldn't help but grin. "I like his idea," he said, probably a little too loudly because Isaac made furious hushing gestures at him. Scott didn't mind. It felt like a date. A secret date. So secret not even they knew they were going on one.

"Do I need to being anything?" Scott asked suddenly. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, it felt like a stupid question, but Isaac didn't declare it as one.

Instead, he shook his head, his eyes bright. "No. Just bring yourself. Let's go."

And then he reached downward and took a hold of Scott's hand and Scott's word exploded into a thousand tiny pieces. Isaac's hand was warm and insistent and it tugged him toward the window that Scott hadn't even realized was open until just then.

"Where are we going?"

"Does it matter?"

Scott realized it really didn't. The night weather was a bit chilly. They could see their breath. They didn't have to jump far to reach the ground, but even when the two of them landed, Isaac picked up Scott's hand again as if jumping out the window was only just a quick pause in their togetherness. Scott squeezed his fingers firmly around Isaac's just to hold on and together they ran off across the yard and down the winding road.

Isaac stole a backward glance at Scott as they ran. His eyes twinkled in a way that Scott hadn't seen since he discovered he could take the pain away from animals. It was contagious. Suddenly Scott felt silly for wanting to avoid Isaac. It had been a stupid idea.

He should have been doing the opposite. He should have been spending as much time as possible with him. Isaac awakened all the feelings Scott thought could only be for Allison… and yet he'd also rekindled the type of friendship he'd thought he'd lost when Stiles left for a Private University.

Stiles used to drag him outside at night to go on adventures. Allison used to make his heart race. And here was Isaac who did both without even trying. He was a two for one deal. That made him precious. A treasure. A gem. Gold.

Yes, when it came to Isaac, Scott struck gold and he wasn't about to let anyone else take it from him.


	3. Chapter 3

Scott was no stranger to the woods. In fact, over the years, he'd run around the forest floor in his bare feet so often that he had the next fifty acres memorized. If only he could memorize the periodic table of the elements the way he knew not to trip over certain tree roots, his life would be set.

Isaac had the preserve memorized as well, which was of no surprise. The way he held onto Scott's hand as they crept through the underbrush showed just how much he'd been planning a night like this.

In fact, as they ran, Scott couldn't help but notice that Isaac had a specific destination in mind. He didn't talk much as they hopped over logs and ducked under branches. With their heightened werewolf reflexes, the two of them were able to keep their grasp on each other's hands without the extra need for balance. Isaac, who took the lead, even held branches up for Scott like some kind of flaxen-haired gentleman. Scott was impressed. He would have swooned if he did that sort of thing.

Isaac didn't slow down until they came to a clearing. The trees here were thinned out, but artificially. Someone had placed a picnic table, a grill and a waste bin in the clearing as if to say, "Surely these amenities will give you an authentic, outdoorsy camping experience," because nothing says rugged outdoorsmen like a rusty metal trashcan.

Scott, not really sure if he should say something or not, decided that he would be the first to speak by asking, "We're not having a moonlight picnic, are we?"

Isaac gave him a look that Scott couldn't particularly place. It was either shocked, amused or disappointed, or possibly all three. Scott didn't even know if he could make a face like that. He might try some time in front of a mirror, just to see if he could do it.

"No, we're not," Isaac answered. He hopped onto the picnic table with such ease and sat on the edge, letting his legs dangle over the side. They almost reached the ground. If he stretched his toes forward enough, he would scrape the dead grass. Such long legs. They probably looked a lot longer without any jeans covering them up…

Scott shook himself out of his thoughts before he really started to undress Isaac with his eyes. It was a bit cold for that. Not to mention, if anything happened out there on the picnic table, they always ran the risk of splinters and that was just something Scott really didn't want to have to think about. "Well, you wanted to hang. So let's hang."

"I wanted to talk, actually," Isaac said. Scott thought it sounded unsure, but Isaac patted a spot on the edge of the table next to him and Scott took a seat. They were sitting on the shorter end and there wasn't a whole lot of room. Scott's body was forced to line up with Isaac's from knee to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Yeah, Isaac definitely planned this.

"Okay, so… let's talk," Scott said, trying hard to sound casual. He didn't know if he was supposed to let his hands sit in his lap or not. If he did that, it felt like his right arm was pressed tight against his body by Isaac. So, he figured he would reach behind him and rest his body on his palms, but the minute he did that, he felt vulnerable and open. If Isaac so much as nudged him, he'd fall right off the table.

Isaac, who didn't seem to be bothered by trifle nuances like sitting, simply looked up at the night sky and sighed upward, a trail of breath creating a tiny cloud that disappeared as easily as it was called into existence. "Scott," he began, "We're fr-."

"YES," Scott cut him off quickly. He should have guessed Isaac was going to start the conversation with that question. He started everything with that .

Isaac tore his gaze from the sky to look back at Scott. "Then you won't mind at all if I ask you a personal question, right?"

Scott shrugged, "I guess not." He really hoped this was going in the direction he wanted it to.

"Why are you my friend… exactly?"

The question threw Scott off guard. One of his hands almost slipped from the picnic table and he had to lift himself up a bit. He couldn't bring his hands to sit in his lap because his right arm was still stuck behind Isaac, so he had to kind of discreetly settle himself around the taller boy. If anyone happened to see them, it would look like Scott had his arm around Isaac's back like two completely casual and probably not platonic friends. It was a good thing no one was lurking in the woods at ass o clock at night. Except maybe Derek. But he was sleeping. Maybe.

"Why?" Scott croaked, stalling for time. He really hoped Isaac wouldn't be too disappointed if it took Scott a while to answer. "I don't really know," Scott said before he could stop himself. He wanted so badly to punch himself in the mouth. Or the brain. At least his mouth was on the outside so he could effectively punch that. Isaac could always punch Scott in the mouth… with /his/ mouth. Shut up, brain.

Isaac swallowed hard. "You don't know?"

"I've never thought about it before," Scott clarified. He scrambled around for a better answer. "I never needed to. You're just… you're just you. And I really like you being you. If you were… anyone other than you than I just, maybe I wouldn't like you as much, you know?"

Isaac gave a small puff of laughter and Scott thought that maybe his rambling was a good enough answer. He liked that.

"Why do you ask?" Scott thought maybe the best way to avoid the question was to throw it back at Isaac.

"No reason," said Isaac.

"There's always a reason," Scott frowned. He scanned his brain for something Isaac may have said before. He'd said something about feeling like giving up, hadn't he? About maybe Scott not caring? Scott thought he'd cleared that up with Isaac. Maybe he hadn't. Maybe he needed constant reassurance over this, too. Or, maybe, he thought Scott was being his friend for all the wrong reasons. What were the wrong reasons to be someone's friend? Dares? Bets?

"I just thought… well, it's kind of stupid, actually, just nevermind," Isaac began.

Ugh. Scott openly growled at Isaac for being so stupid. Although, in his fragile state, Scott probably shouldn't say that to Isaac's face. He had to have more tact. He needed to be gentle. "Thought what? I felt sorry for you? That you're second-best? What?"

Isaac's eyes widened. He didn't have to say anything. That confirmed. It. All of the above.

It was Scott's turn to sigh. "Jeez, Isaac. Honestly? Yeah, we didn't really know each other before the bite but that was so long ago. Now I know how nice you are and how you're always willing to help me out when I need it… and you're smart and always have a good comeback. You never make fun of me for anything and you're strong. Who the hell wouldn't want to be your friend?" Scott was very proud of himself for not listing off any physical characteristics. He might get carried away.

Hearing all of those compliments in a row was too much for Isaac. Scott could tell. Isaac was fighting a blush and reeking of embarrassment and trying his hardest to look everywhere but at Scott. Scott found it absolutely endearing. Why, oh why hadn't he spent more time with Isaac in High School? Maybe that was why Isaac was so unsure, now. Here was Scott, spending all of his social time with Isaac instead of Stiles and Isaac probably thought it was only because Stiles wasn't there.

"What do you want me to say?" Scott asked. Really. This was the question of the night. He could guess all he wanted, but if Isaac didn't spell anything out for him then he was going to keep hitting foul balls.

"Nothing," answered Isaac. His eyes were downcast. Despite everything, he still looked depressed. Scott was at his wits end. There were too many variables at the moment. Scott could make too many wrong decisions.

Which one was the right one? He needed to ask someone, but there was no one to ask. He couldn't pull his phone out and start texting Stiles. That wasn't right on so many levels. He had all of three seconds to decide something. To fix things. There was only one logical course of action.

He raised his right arm, the one resting behind Isaac on the table, and began to rub slow circles on Isaac's upper back. His mom used to pet him like this when he was younger and he found it rather soothing. He hoped the action would work with Isaac.

Instead, Isaac jolted and arched his back away from Scott's touch. He shot him an accusatory stare, "What are you doing?"

"I'm just… I'm trying to make you feel better," Scott stammered. Isaac often shied away from physical contact, but rarely from Scott. "I don't like seeing you like this."

Isaac thought about it and started to relax. Scott didn't reach out and touch him again. He couldn't. If Isaac jerked away from him again Scott was going to shift then and there and go rip up a tree.

"I'm sorry," Isaac said at length. "There's a lot on my mind."

"Then unload it on me," Scott didn't laugh. He didn't. This was a serious moment. "I'm listening. Promise." And he wouldn't space out, either. Isaac had his full and undivided attention.

"I can't," Isaac said. He even looked away. If they were in a lifetime drama, Isaac would win all of the awards. Scott was impressed.

So impressed, in fact, that Scott decided to call bullshit and just outright ask Isaac. "Is it about your job?"

"No."

"School?"

"No."

"The Pack house?"

"…. No."

"Me?"

Isaac said nothing.

Scott smirked. "I knew it."

Isaac glared.

Scott let the glare bounce right off him. He had Isaac exactly where he wanted him. "You can tell me anything. I already said that, but that's because it's true. If I did something wrong, just tell me."

"You can't do anything wrong," Isaac sighed.

Scott was beginning to get impatient. He knew he was grasping at something. He needed to be sure. He wasn't a total expert at reading people, but he was pretty certain that he was reading the situation properly. Either Isaac had a boner for him or he just really really really really wanted to be Scott's friend. Hero worship or attraction? Scott knew which one he wanted it to be.

"So what you're saying is… if I do anything right now, it won't be the wrong thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like if I wolf out and go run into the woods, that's right? Or if I say I'm cold and want to go home, that's also right?"

"Something like that," Isaac said. He wasn't even looking at Scott anymore. He was staring off into the distance. Or, rather, the not-so-far-distance. He was staring at the rusty trashcan as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. That made everything so much easier for Scott.

"Then I can't get in trouble if I do this," Scott prompted. He then leaned forward and pressed his nose to one of Isaac's prominent cheekbones. The tip of Scott's nose was cold, but Isaac's face was warm and steadily growing warmer from a sudden blush. Scott smiled against Isaac's cheek, letting his breath warm the spot even more. "Right?"

Isaac didn't jerk away. He was actually frozen to the spot. This was a very, very good thing in Scott's eyes. He decided that what he assumed about Isaac was probably right and that it would be perfectly okay for him to put his right back on Isaac's back again. It helped steady him anyway. Then he placed a soft kiss against Isaac's cheek before finally backing away.

When Isaac swallowed, it was so loud Scott didn't think he needed to have werewolf sense to hear it.

He didn't say anything. Scott didn't know if he was supposed to go in and kiss him again just in case he didn't feel it, but it didn't seem right. After some time, all he said was, "Isaac?"

When Isaac finally moved, it was because he was reaching a hand up to wipe at something on his face and it was only then that Scott realized there were tears. They came so fast and Scott hadn't been prepared for them. He said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Oh my God, I broke you. I'm sorry, Isaac. I really am. I didn't meant to do that to you. I've just really wanted to do that for a while, now and it just seemed like the perfect time and I didn't realize that maybe you didn't want me to do that and I've probably really screwed things up and I'm just really, really, sorry." Scott rambled off everything without taking a breath. He began to move to get up from the picnic table, but Isaac's voice stopped him.

"No," Isaac said finally. His voice was shaking, probably from holding back tears. Scott didn't even know Isaac could cry over something like this. "I'm sorry. I'm acting like an idiot. It's just been… a very trying few years. I'm very thankful I have you in my life to… sort it all out for me."

Well, that was good, right? These were happy tears, then? Isaac was so confusing. He was a wrecking ball of testosterone and anger one minute and then the next he was bottling up so many emotions it could kill someone. Scott wanted to roll over everything with a steamroller and just start over again.

Scott closed his eyes and counted to three. That was enough time to start everything over from the beginning again, right? When he opened his eyes, he knew he was ready. "Isaac," he nudged with his voice. "Can you just kiss me?"

Isaac's mouth twitched and Scott knew he was trying not to smile. "I could," Isaac started. "But what good will it do?"

"Oh, it'll do a lot of good," Scott grinned helplessly. "For one, we'll be kissing and that's fucking awesome."

Isaac stared.

Scott raised his eyebrows. "You do want to kiss me, right?"

It took Isaac a while, but he slowly nodded.

"Then," said Scott, "You dragged me out here in the cold to get splinters in my butt and stare at old trashcans. The least you can do is stop getting my hopes up and just kiss me."

Maybe Isaac wanted a bigger declaration of love. Maybe he had hoped Scott would sing his praises through poetry or recite them from the top of a mountain. Scott just wasn't the type. Actions spoke louder than words and all that. Isaac had been moping about in his head for too long because Scott couldn't find the courage or the balls to just say anything. With the two of them dancing around the subject it was bound to be popped eventually. Scott just really wanted tonight to be that time.

Eventually, Isaac must have accepted Scott's assumed proposal because he pressed their lips together in a kiss.

He tried to be soft and gentle about it. He even brought a hand up to lie gracefully on the side of Scott's neck. Scott, however, would have none of it. He opened his mouth almost immediately and all but attacked Isaac's bottom lip. Scott had waited too long to kiss Isaac like this. All the time for waiting patiently for something to just /happen/ was gone. He needed Isaac, /now./

Isaac vibrated with a low groan and Scott couldn't help but chuckle against Isaac's lips. "Now that's a kiss."

When Scott pulled back to look at Isaac, he expected to see a half-lidded gaze filled with lust. He hadn't expected to see a newly awakened glint of darkness in Isaac's eyes. What he thought had been a growl of complete pleasure now looked almost predatory. Scott would have squeaked if he had the ability.

"Isaac?"

"Scott," Isaac said, his voice a cross between a growl and a purr. "You have no idea how long I've waited for that."

Scott refused to give Isaac the upper hand and helped dig his grave a little further. "How many times have you thought about our first kiss?" he said, complete with an eyebrow waggles.

"Enough to know that we're talking way too much."

"I could kiss you all night, you know."

"Show me."

And Scott did.

Well, it wasn't all night. At some point, their backsides grew numb from the cold and the unrelenting wood of the picnic table. They eventually had to go back to the pack house. On the way there, however, they stopped no less than six times to share a quick kiss or two or ten. They spent another half an hour alone on the front porch and another fifteen minutes on the stairs. Morning light was threatening to peek its way into the house by the time they forced themselves to separate and go to their own rooms.

Scott felt oddly empty even though Isaac was only in the next room. His lips were swollen and red and tingling and he could still taste Isaac on his tongue. His boxers and jeans were damp from an unsatisfied and leaking cock but for once, his emotions were so heightened that it didn't even bother him that he was going to have the worst blue balls in the history of blue balls even if he did get himself off.

It had been worth it. Absolutely worth it. And now Isaac was going to be happy all the time and they were going to run skipping down the halls with sunshine and daisies and everything. No more tears, just like baby shampoo. Perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: **This has been up on AO3 for a while and I just now realized it hasn't been updated over here. Sorry about that! Hope you enjoy the finish.

* * *

Everything was supposed to be fantastic.

Except it wasn't, because that was how the universe always worked.

Scott had never jerked off so many times in his life.

Yeah, so practically admitting that Scott liked his (sort of. For the moment, anyway) best friend was awesome. The fact that said friend liked him back made it extra awesome. The kissing was fantastic. The mini heart attacks were also great considering he'd missed having them since Allison. The only thing that would have made the world a better place would have been if he could actually see Isaac and relish in their newfound attraction. That would be nice.

Scott had none of that.

Between school and jobs, Scott rarely ever got to see Isaac. After staying up all night locking lips and tongues and god knows what else, it took a few days to catch up on his sleep properly and even after that there was no time to do much else because finals were starting. The weather grew colder so it wasn't even like the two of them could go sneak outside and frolic in the December air because it was too freezing to bother.

Scott only had the privilege of sharing an exhausted smile with Isaac every so often when the curly wolf was just coming in from delivering papers in the morning and Scott was just leaving for his morning classes. By the time Scott came home from school or work, Isaac was usually asleep so that he could be up early for his own job. It was a vicious and terrible cycle and Scott hated every second of it.

Scott found he'd grown fond of standing just outside Isaac's door and watching him sleep. If that made him a stalker then he was willing to live with the title. Isaac wasn't necessarily the most attractive sleeper. He often slept with his mouth open and his body contorted into obscure angles that couldn't possibly be comfortable. Scott had half a mind to enter Isaac's room and reconfigure all of his limbs to look like a normal human being.

Not that any of them were normal human beings anymore, but it was worth a shot.

Despite Isaac's nocturnal shortcomings, Scott couldn't be too mad that the only way he got to see Isaac was when he was asleep. It really gave Scott a chance to think everything through. His admiration of the taller man hadn't changed or even wavered in the least. He still one hundred percent wanted Isaac. He could only hope that Isaac still wanted him.

Which he did, right? He had to. Otherwise, well, Scott didn't know. Otherwise things would be weird, right? And they weren't.

They still smiled at each other or stole kisses when they had the chance. Nothing ever happened in front of the others, though. It wasn't like they were really trying to hide it, there was just never an opportunity where it seemed appropriate. It ate at Scott's insides because all he really wanted to do was jump down Isaac's throat. In a good way. A really good way. And maybe not just with his mouth.

As the calendar year came to a close, so did the semester and Scott couldn't have been happier for it. College was easier to study for, probably because he didn't have to worry about hiding everything from his mom. Funny how losing some of the stressors in his life made it easier to concentrate on school. The lack of annoying peers probably had something to do with it, too. Or maybe it was the lack of lacrosse. Either way, when Scott only had to worry about school, work and getting some alone time with Isaac, it was amazing just how well he excelled in the other areas of his life. In fact, his mother was so proud of him she considered letting him have her old car.

He'd heard horror stories about college students staying up all hours of the night during finals week just so make sure they would pass with flying colors. Scott didn't study any more than he usually did and was actually thankful for the reduced class hours that week because it meant he had more time during the more random times of the day (like 2 in the afternoon. What the hell ever happened at 2 in the afternoon?) to see what Isaac was up to.

Isaac, it turned out, was the one that freaked out over finals.

Scott found him in his room, tugging at his hair and frowning angrily at a textbook that he had spread out on his bed. Notebooks, highlighters and pencils surrounded him to the point that he looked like he'd made a pretty little nest for himself. A nest of despair and the possibility of failed exams.

He even had bags around his eyes, the poor guy. Scott leaned against the door frame, arms folded across his chest and cleared his throat.

"Shit!" Isaac jumped. "Scott!"

"Don't give me that. I know you heard me."

"Doesn't mean I was paying attention. I'm trying to make it through Sociology alive."

"You can fight half the creatures in the beastiary, but you can't handle a college course?" Scott couldn't hide his smirk even if he tried. He remembered those days. The days when Stiles would make fun of him for lacking the proper studying skills. In his defense, though, Stiles had poor study skills, too. He just happened to have something to help him focus during tests. Now Stiles was gone and Isaac was here and he was taking these finals a bit too seriously. Scott was just going to have to change that.

Isaac ripped his eyes away from his textbook like it physically hurt him to do so. For all Scott knew, it probably did. "You're distracting. And I've lost my concentration."

"I think you were concentrating so hard, you were actually repelling information," Scott offered.

Isaac gave him a stern look. "That's impossible."

"Is not," Scott shrugged. "I know from experience. Let me help."

"I got this," Isaac leaned over his textbook like it was a gold nugget from South America. "I'm good."

"Isaac," Scott said, sounding eerily like his mother. He frowned inwardly and tried again, forcing his voice to be much lighter and more like he wasn't a doting hen. "Isaac, you need a break. Seriously."

Isaac sighed loudly and looked around his despair nest with defeat. "I just need to pass this test, Scott. This class is a prerequisite for everything else I want to take."

"I know," Scott said, taking his chance to move into the room. "I know, but you won't keep anything in your head if you're too stressed out. Just five minutes, okay? Trust me, it'll help." Scott slowly crept further into Isaac's room and when he made it to the bed, he knelt on the floor beside it and carefully placed his hands on Isaac's notebook, ready to close it as soon as he was able.

"Five minutes," Isaac reluctantly agreed. "I'm timing you."

"Great!" Scott wasted no more time and shut both Isaac's notebook and textbook with a satisfying fwomp and shoved the offending pieces of paper and writing utensils to the side. "Let's make waffles."

"You can't make waffles in five minutes."

"You can if you use a toaster. Come on. You need brain food. My mom always made me waffles the morning of a big test." Scott really was turning into his mother but he was going to save that identity crisis for another day. He used Isaac's mattress as an anchor and pushed himself up off the floor, and reached for Isaac's arm, tugging him off his bed. "Food."

"When you said five minutes, I thought we were going to make out or something," Isaac very nearly whined. Scott was actually a bit touched that Isaac preferred to eat Scott as opposed to waffles, but no, he had to focus. They would have plenty of time to be intimate after finals, right?

"Sorry to disappoint."

Once inside the kitchen, Scott pulled the store-brand waffles from the freezer and tossed a few in the toaster. As he pulled out various toppings from the refrigerator, he could feel Isaac's presence closing in on him. By the time he'd procured a knife for the cream cheese, Isaac had himself pressed flush against Scott's back, his arms wrapped around Scott's waist in a backward hug.

Scott paused in his waffle ministrations to close his eyes and just relish in the fact that Isaac had taken the initiative to just hold him. In fact, the pause was only supposed to last a second, but one second turned into fifteen and suddenly Scott's neck was turning sideways so that Isaac could nudge his nose along his tanned skin and-POP.

Both boys jumped as the toaster announced it had finished burning the waffles. Scott glared at the offending charcoal offerings and almost reached an arm out to remove them from their toasty prison when Isaac's lips suddenly connected with the skin on his neck and what were waffles anyway? Fuck waffles.

Soon Scott was craning his neck to give Isaac as much access as he wanted. When Isaac moved upward to nibble on the outer edge of Scott's ear, his mind was so focused on all the lovely things Isaac was doing with his mouth that he completely disregarded the fact that it was broad daylight, they were in an open kitchen and Isaac's hands were sneaking their way up his shirt.

In all of Scott's fantasies, he was the one to take the initiative. He'd thought about doing all sorts of interesting things to all the bits of Isaac that were often covered in clothing. He hadn't actually thought about what it would be like to just stand there and let Isaac have his way with him. It was kind of nice, actually. So long as Isaac was enjoying himself—and the delicious scent of arousal and rock hard erection Isaac was sporting seemed to confirm that—then Scott was totally 100% on board with the whole thing.

…which was probably why he pressed himself backward onto Isaac, closing the gap between them even more and may or may not have let out an enticing groan to sort of give him a boost in the confidence department. Isaac took to the hints like salsa to a Tostito. A low, rumbling growl sounded in the back of his throat and he bit down on Scott's shoulder while his hand moved upward across Scott's chest.

Scott couldn't help it, he cried out and was so very thankful he was so overwhelmed by sensation that he didn't actually hear himself cry out because it would have been extremely embarrassing. Sex was usually embarrassing whenever he looked back on it. The problem was that when he was aroused, there wasn't much else to worry about other than making sure he and his partner felt good and embarrassing mouth words be damned.

Under those subconscious thoughts Scott's body was turning into a wave of heat and want. His brain became less coherent as blood began to pool in other places. He was vaguely aware that Isaac was saying something in his ear. He knew words were happening next to his head because Isaac's warm breath tickled his earlobe. Whatever Isaac was saying was probably awesome, so Scott grunted in approval.

Suddenly Scott found himself pressed against the counter, his nose inches away from the cooling waffles. Isaac had pulled away long enough to lift up Scott's shirt and lick a long, wet stripe up Scott's spine. The noise Scott made didn't even sound like him. And those goosebumps appearing all over his flesh? Where had those come from? The tingling sensation followed him all the way down to the tips of his fingers and he knew his claws were coming out. Just what the hell had he agreed to?

He turned his head and croaked out a weak, "Isaac?"

"I wanted to take things slow," Isaac said, his voice low and sultry. His hands ran up and down Scott's sides and alternatively gripped at his skin as Isaac pulled Scott's ass back against him.

"You're humping much more than my leg. That doesn't look slow."

"I'm trying," Isaac said through gritted teeth. "It's been too long. And there's too much stress and frustration and I never get to see you and—"

"Then we've already been taking it slow," Scott told the toaster waffles because turning his head felt weird. Talking to the waffles was probably even weirder, but at least he wasn't trying to eat them straight from the toaster… Although that was a possibility…

"Then what…" Isaac honestly sounded like he was holding the entire world on his shoulders. Scott was half expecting to turn around and see him completely wolfed out. "Do you want to do?"

Scott thought long and hard about the situation. Except that was a flat out lie. He didn't even hesitate before he growled and said, "Fuck the waffles," before turning around.

Isaac was snickering, his teeth flashing bright and joyfully. His fangs were extended. He really was losing it. "I'd rather fuck you," he said.

"That's… what I meant," Scott clarified, but he was smiling, too.

And then they weren't smiling anymore because their mouths were far too preoccupied with each other. Scott actually enjoyed having to pull Isaac down to his level. He could fist his claws into Isaac's curls and just tug their heads together. It was like he couldn't get close enough. The scent of Isaac's arousal swirled around with his own creating one dangerous chemical reaction.

Scott couldn't keep his hands in one place. They needed to reach around and touch every muscle he could. Isaac didn't seem to mind, either, probably because he found himself in the same predicament. Shirts were lifted up. Pants were unbuckled. Awkward limbs bumped into each other and knocked the cream cheese from the counter and the knife clattered to the floor and neither boy even cared.

They shuffled across the floor, taking turns slamming each other into various cabinets, causing the glassware inside to rattle. At one point Isaac held Scott up against the refrigerator and Scott accidentally pressed the button for ice. Neither wolf jumped at the gurgling sound of frozen water spilling out of the fridge. It crunched under their shoes which was a bit annoying, but definitely the least of their worries. Scott pushed Isaac away from the spilled ice and toward the kitchen table. Someone had newspapers and old dishes still scattered about the table top and all of that was shoved to the floor in favor of clearing a space.

Scott did his best to get Isaac onto the table, but Isaac held Scott closely to him, torso to torso as his palms kneaded the seat of Scott's pants. Their lips were swollen and red and Scott had bite marks along his neck that were starting to heal already. Scott gave the table the conspicuous side glance as if to tell Isaac, '_Get on this thing and let me do you._'

Isaac shook his head and groaned into Scott's mouth. "You promised me, just now."

"Wait… wait what?" Scott blinked a few times. His vision was a bit cloudy. He felt like he needed to swim to the surface of his thoughts. "What'd I do?"

"At the counter," Isaac panted. "You agreed."

Scott's eyes found Isaac's and held them. "What did you say…? Exactly?"

Isaac moved his hands from outside Scott's jeans to inside them, easily finding his way under the elastic of his boxers, effectively cupping his ass and grinding their hips together. "You have no idea how much I want to fuck you."

Scott swallowed instinctively, but kept his gaze locked with Isaac's. "Well," he breathed. "Who can say no to that?"

In record time, Scott was on his back on the table, pants completely off. One sock had been removed in the de-pantsing but the other sock stubbornly adhered to Scott's foot and Scott couldn't bring himself to even care. Mostly because Isaac was on his knees between Scott's spread legs, mouth exploring every intimate detail. As Scott stared at the ceiling fan lights over the kitchen table, he suddenly understood why people had sex mirrors installed on their ceilings. He really, really wanted to watch what was going on, but he couldn't be bothered to raise his head to get a good look.

Scott was enjoying himself. All he had to do was lie back and let Isaac pleasure him into oblivion. The only reason Scott hadn't blown his lid entirely was probably due to the conditioning he'd put himself through as a teenage boy. But god damn, he was close. If Isaac so much as attempted to drag his tongue anywhere near his perineum, he was going to—

And as soon as Scott thought about, Isaac was there, dragging a wet tongue down the line of his balls toward his opening and Scott had to hold his forearm up to his mouth to keep himself from suddenly jerking forward.

He must have done it anyway, because Isaac was pulling away. All the passion and blurred lust dissipated and was replaced with a soft, genuinely caring voice. "Are you okay?"

Scott hated backing out. They'd come this far. But he hadn't exactly been preparing himself the way he probably should have. Scott almost laughed to himself. Here he was, nineteen years old, a werewolf, and already fought some of the most terrifying things on the planet… and he was frightened of a little anal play. "We don't have any lube," he choked out. That was an awesome excuse.

Isaac's hand idly drew fingers around the crinkled skin of Scott's balls. He could feel them twitch inward with something akin to glee. Fucking balls. Moving around of their own accord. ""I have some. In my room."

Oh shit. New plan, new plan. Scott forced his brain to work but it was of no use. He was trapped by the smell of sex and pre-cum in the air. Isaac was probably staining his pants. The mental image was enough to get him to change his mind.

"Fine, okay. Your room. Now."

"I'll treat you like a lady, I swear."

"Shut up, Isaac."

"Gladly," Isaac said and promptly gagged himself with Scott's penis. Scott let out a string of incoherent mumbling that ended with him practically tugging Isaac by the curls and away from his very eager dick.

"You keep that up and I swear I'll come in your mouth just to piss you off," teased Scott.

Isaac pulled away and stood up, stretching a little. Scott had been right about him staining his pants. It was a beautiful sight. "Tempting," he counter-teased. Oh, Scott was going to simultaneously hate and enjoy this.

That was about the time that Isaac turned tail and ran down the hallway back to his room. The instinct to chase triggered itself in Scott's mind and he found himself suddenly seeing red and tearing down the hallway after the curly headed wolf.

Scott found Isaac already pantsless and pulling out a tube of lubricant from his top dresser drawer. Both his socks were off, too, the lucky bastard. Scott only had enough time to register any of this before his chase instinct caused him to tackle Isaac sideways to the bed and dig his claws into him. Isaac's eyes flashed gold and when he said Scott's name, it was filled with such glorious want that Scott actually howled.

Everything that happened afterward was a blur. Isaac's grip accidentally exploded the tube of lubricant and they ended up using nearly the entire bottle to coat their nether regions. Scott remembered fingers and he remembered the sharp feeling as Isaac pushed his coated head against his hole but he certainly didn't remember much else after that.

He knew a lot of heaving pounding was going on and that Isaac's claws dug themselves into Scott's hips. There was a fleeting feeling of seeing the ceiling again and he may or may not have screamed something about mirrors as he came all over his chest and torso in a fit of nearly blinded passion.

Scott felt like he was waking up for the first time.

His entire body ached, but in a good way. He blinked the sleep slowly from his eyes and when he finally realized where he was, he nearly settled back down into a peaceful doze. The unmistakable scent of sex filled his nostrils and it jerked him awake. There was something heavy and warm next to him in bed and all at once, Scott's brain started to function at full capacity.

He turned around in Isaac's bed and winced at the soreness in his backside. Did werewolves get muscle aches? Maybe they took longer to heal. Weird.

"Isaac," Scott whispered, nudging the sleeping werewolf who had been spooning him from behind. "Isaac, wake up."

Isaac groaned and reached behind his head to grab his pillow and slammed it in Scott's face. Scott took the initiative and pushed Isaac off the bed.

"I'm awake!" Isaac shouted from the floor. He hesitated for a few moments, probably getting his bearings, which Scott totally understood, and then his face jerked upward to meet Scott's. "What time is it?"

Scott lazily checked the alarm clock beside Isaac's bed. "It's like five in the afternoon. I didn't mean to shove you off the bed but considering the mess we made, we should probably get it cleaned up before Derek gets home."

Isaac rubbed his eyes. "Shit," he groaned. "Don't say that, you'll jinx it!"

"You can't jinx things," Scott laughed and waved his hand like he was just poo-pooing Isaac's silly superstitions. "Derek won't get home for another hour. We've got time!" It was true. Derek usually came in at about six from whatever it was that he did. If he remembered correctly, Boyd and Erica were either having a date night or trying to study at the library where they couldn't be distracted. All Scott had to do was grab the broom and mop and the Febreeze and everything would go back to normal.

Everything was going to be fantastic.

Except it wasn't, because that was how the universe always worked.

Because at that moment in time, both Isaac's and Scott's ears perked up at the sound of a key in the front door. Horror slowly filled their eyes as they exchanged terrified looks. Scott could practically _smell_ Derek's anger.

"What the hell did you guys do to my kitchen?!"

A faint splash.

"And there's water all over the floor!"

Squish.

"And melted cream cheese!?"

Crunch.

"These are my insurance papers!"

Scott and Isaac's facial expressions changed to ones of terror to ones of mirth. The mental image alone of Derek finding the giant mess they'd left behind was suddenly the most hilarious thing that had ever happened to Scott. Derek was still shouting obscenities.

"And it reeks of sex and waffles. EVERYWHERE."

Scott leaned down over the edge of the bed to share one last kiss with Isaac before Derek came in and ripped their heads off. When they broke, he was smiling. "Totally worth it."

"Totally worth it," Isaac echoed.

Derek the big bad wolf could huff and puff all he wanted. Scott had Isaac and he knew he was going to keep him. He hadn't even realized there was a missing piece to his puzzle until Isaac filled it.

Isaac was his gold, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.


End file.
